


Room for One (What If I Want to Come In Too?)

by elletromil



Series: Room for Three [1]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Dating, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 14:48:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7443265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elletromil/pseuds/elletromil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The words make Richard feel bad for the span of a moment. He doesn’t know how James takes his tea. Before he can say it out loud thought, he realises it’s not true at all. Most of the time, he’ll drown in his tea in milk, so much so that Richard often ask him why he bothered with the tea at all when he could simply take a glass of milk. And Richard always know when James is feeling down or when his injuries from previous missions are still acting up because he’ll forgo the milk and just put so much sugar in his cup Richard often wonder how it is still in liquid form.</i>
</p>
<p>Wherein the best way through Richard's heart is through his stomach, but the same can be said about James.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Room for One (What If I Want to Come In Too?)

**Author's Note:**

> So here I am with the prequel to of the three Room for Three fics. It is unnecessary to have read any of the Merhartwin stories to understand this, nor will it be to read this one to understand the three others, but the scene between Merlin and Percy in the last chapter of Merlin's Room for Three had me thinking and I simply couldn't resist writing a bit more backstory to the Percilot in that verse.
> 
> As always this is my signature fluff with maybe a tiny bit of angst along the way, so don't think you'll get anything else but a happy ending.
> 
> I might adds some tags along the way and my Percy's name is Richard as always. Besides that, well, enjoy!

Richard is dying.

Slowly, painfully, inevitably.

And the worst with it all is that he’s dying _alone_.

Who knows how long it will be before anyone thinks of looking for him in his office? Because who would think a great spy such as himself might get defeated by the common cold and his own stupidity at wanting to finish his paperwork when he should have been in bed?

(Richard, when sick, is a bit of a drama queen.)

Another day, maybe James would have come to check on him, but after how he talked to him earlier in the day, he very much doubts it. In fact, were he to survive this, Richard is pretty sure that his interaction with James this morning will finally mark the end of the other man’s pursuit of him.

That thought make him feel even more queasy, but it’s better to face the reality now.

Anyway, it isn’t like they were going anywhere. Yes, James keeps asking him out at every occasion, and Richard keeps saying ‘ _not this time_ ’, but after the last rebuttal, even James won’t persist.

To think he had finally decided to give him a chance even if he knows James’ flirting isn’t to be taken seriously. Such dedication deserves a reward and letting James win the bet about whether or not he would ever get a date with the ever so professional Percival has seemed a good way to do it.

And if Richard was to get a nice romantic night out from that deal, only he needed to know.

Now he won’t even get to live out that particular fantasy.

So busy he is with his pity-party, he doesn’t hear the door to his office opening and it’s a mercy his reflexes are so sluggish from the fever or James would have been stabbed to death with a letter opener.

“Really Percy, what are you doing here if you are that out of it?” A blessedly cool hand press against his forehead and Richard may or may not moan in relief. “Christ, you’re burning up.” This time, Richard _definitely_ makes a pitiful sound when the hand leaves his skin, but it returns before he can whine for too long since James had only remove it to contact the infirmary. “Gaius, I’m sorry to bother you, but could you send some people with a gurney to carry agent Percival to the infirmary. I fear his cold has taken quite a bad turn.”

Richard thinks he can vaguely hears Gaius cursing something about foolish Knights from where he is or maybe he simply knows the nurse well enough to infer what is being said from James’ expression.

“They should get here in about ten minutes. Now, drink your tea, I’m pretty sure you’ve been doing a shit job keeping hydrate.”

He wants to deny the accusation because he might be sick but he’s not an idiot, when he realises that James isn’t wrong. He _had_ been on his way to get some water earlier this morning, until he had had his altercation with James and completely forgotten about anything else but go hide himself in shame at how quickly he had lost his temper. Because while James could be an infuriating man, that morning he had done nothing to warrant Richard’s anger, but before he could have apologize, the other Knight had turn back to left him alone as he had asked. Had he not been so sick, Richard would have followed after him, but the last thing he had needed that morning was to chase after a man who probably didn’t want to get caught.

He’s about to apologize this time, because he really shouldn’t have taken his bad mood on James earlier and he doesn’t deserve the man’s help, but James shakes his head. “Nope, no talking, drink your tea.”

This time he doesn’t disobey the order, finally taking the cup offered to him and he cannot stop the little sound of surprise at his first sip.

“How did you know how I took my tea?” The real question is more “ _how did you know how I take my tea when I feel like shit?_ ” because those are two entirely different things, but he’s a bit too busy with drinking the honeyed beverage. The first sip made it far too clear how very thirsty he really was.

“Come on Perf-cy, we’ve been having tea together every time we’re both at HQ for nearly a year. I’d be a piss-poor friend if I didn’t know _that_.” The words make Richard feel bad for the span of a moment. _He_ doesn’t know how James takes his tea. Before he can say it out loud thought, he realises it’s not true at all. Most of the time, he’ll drown in his tea in milk, so much so that Richard often ask him why he bothered with the tea at all when he could simply take a glass of milk. And Richard always know when James is feeling down or when his injuries from previous missions are still acting up because he’ll forgo the milk and just put so much sugar in his cup Richard often wonder how it is still in liquid form.

So yeah, that James knows Richard secret indulgence for a spot of honey when he feels under the weather shouldn’t be surprising. They _are_ first and foremost _friends_ after all, no matter how much Richard might want it to be more and no matter how much he is starting to suspect James truly wants it to be more too.

Because if James hadn’t care at least a tiny bit, he wouldn’t have come to check up on him, not after the horrid way Richard had treated him this morning.

He opens his mouth to say something, he doesn’t really know what yet, but that’s when Gaius and another nurse Richard has never seen before get into the office without bothering to knock first and he’s forced into a gurney and wheeled out the room. Richard would protest the treatment if he didn’t have a healthy fear of Gaius like all the other Knights and if the world hadn’t gone so wobbly again around him.

Anyway, with James still walking at his side, holding his hand in his, it’s hard to focus on anything else.

It’s only when they make it to the infirmary and Gaius make it clear that no way in hell is James getting in with them that Richard finds what he had wanted to say.

“James,” he waits until the man is looking at him before continuing, hoping he’ll understand because he isn’t sure he’s in any state to explain right now. “Definitely next time.”

He needn’t worry about James not understanding that he is talking about his incessant demand for a date because James’ smile at that is positively _blinding_. At least he does for about five seconds, until he sobers up and gently shakes his head.

“Let’s see what you say once you’re no longer fever high, okay?”

He gives a last squeeze to the hand he is still holding before the two nurses whisker him away, before Richard can tell him he knows what James is doing and he _really_ doesn’t need the out.

Because, while yes he is definitely fever high, he’s also never been more lucid about that thing between him and James, that _relationship_ they have, and it’s about time Richard stops playing the ostrich.

Right after he sleeps for a day or ten that is.


End file.
